


Seeking the Sun

by StarryNox



Series: Edelclaude Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles/Golden Deer Joint Route, Pre-Relationship, gratuitous use of symbolism and metaphor, in the same universe as day 1 but can stand alone, two traumatized people learning to trust others i just think that's neat!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25160695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryNox/pseuds/StarryNox
Summary: Claude and Edelgard come into bloom.Edelclaude Week Day 2: Flowers / Wind
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Claude von Riegan
Series: Edelclaude Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1821904
Comments: 12
Kudos: 47
Collections: Edelclaude Week





	Seeking the Sun

“You like gardening, yeah? I’ve seen you in the greenhouses, with Bernadetta.” Edelgard stares at Claude, uncomprehending. It’s not the strangest conversation topic he’s ever chosen, but it’s precisely the mundanity of it which baffles her.

“I suppose?” Truthfully, gardening is more Bernadetta’s hobby than her own, but Edelgard has grown to appreciate the activity. The sun on her face, the sweet smell of flowers, the soil between her fingers—simple joys she has learned never to take for granted again. “Why do you ask?”

“One of the merchants in the square foisted these on me,” Claude explains, sliding over a packet of seeds. Gloucester roses, the package reads. “Unfortunately for him, I’m not much of a gardener. Figured someone may as well get some use out of them, and who better than a friend?”

For a moment, she wonders if he simply doesn’t know who else to give them to—from what she knows, none of the Golden Deer are particularly inclined towards gardening—and she’s not entirely sure that they can be considered _friends_ ( though friendly acquaintances, certainly ). Regardless, there’s something that doesn’t ring _quite_ true about the story. But it’s a harmless lie, if there is one, and so she chooses not to call him on it.

In the end, she slips the packet of seeds into her school bag and decides to simply take the gift at face value. Roses, from what she knows, aren’t terribly difficult to cultivate, and she has a small pot in her dormitory room that she can use. It’s easy to convince the greenhouse keeper to spare a bit of soil, and so she carefully nudges the seeds into the dirt the way Bernadetta has shown her to do.

She’d assumed that would be the end of it, but she’s soon proven quite wrong. Claude makes a habit of sliding into a seat across from her whenever he finds her alone. Each and every time, he asks her about the seeds she’s planted ( they’re still seeds, she tells him dryly, and likely will be for a while longer ). And though it makes him seem like an oddly devoted plant parent, albeit one who has no interest in raising them himself, they both know it’s just an excuse.

An excuse for what, Edelgard isn’t quite sure—only that it involves spending time with her. Hubert remains convinced that there’s a nefarious reason behind it, but Edelgard finds she can’t quite bring herself to care even if there is.

It’s… _nice_ , to be chosen, particularly by someone who owes her no loyalty. Edelgard knows that Claude likes a good puzzle ( it is, after all, he remains fascinated even now with Professor Byleth ), but he’s largely stopped prying into her past ever since their heart to heart down in Abyss, so she doesn’t think it’s merely a matter of curiosity, either, though doubtless it is still partially so. And, all right, he could be angling for a more favorable relationship between the Empire and the Alliance. But he doesn’t go out of his way to spend quite this much time with Dimitri, not that she’s really keeping track, and so she’s left with this: he must, at least to an extent, want to spend time together because it’s _her_. It’s a thought that is as terrifying as it is lovely.

Her path is one of bloodshed and destruction, she herself a flame which will raze the current order to ashes and reforge the world. Thales would have her be a weapon, but she thinks herself a monster, doomed to burn that which she loves. She is not naive enough to believe that the people she wants so desperately to save will be unscathed by the war that is coming whether she helps Thales or not, and any step towards friendship will be taken with the knowledge she will betray the other party before long.

But the heart wants what it wants. She’s growing fond of Claude, of the clever gleam in his eyes and the lilt of his voice and the way he sees her for who she is. In her most selfish hours, she wishes she could have this, too.

When the seeds finally _do_ begin to sprout after weeks of care, Edelgard stares in disbelief, having half-convinced herself that they wouldn’t grow because it was _she_ who was taking care of them. But here they are, little shoots poking up from beneath the dirt, proof that she can do more, _be_ more, than what Thales has shaped her for.

It is she who seeks out Claude that day, announcing proudly that her ( admittedly quite simple ) work had paid off. His answering smile is bright as the sun.

* * *

Edelgard learns that an excited Claude is like a brisk spring breeze on a still day—unstoppable, unexpected, and at times leaving chaos in his wake. Her only warning had been Hubert’s visible eye growing wide and his mouth clamping shut before an arm is looped through her own. A gentle tug leaves her scrambling to catch up to Claude’s longer strides, and his voice, cheery and carefree, calls over her shoulder to her baffled retainer that he’d be borrowing her, just for a bit.

Ordinarily, Edelgard would protest being dragged around, but there’s something about the curl of his smile that has her resigning herself to fate. The thought is discomforting, somehow. Even _before_ , she had never been the sort of girl who could be swayed by a handsome face and a pretty smile, and she has no interest in becoming that sort of girl now.

“Just where are you taking me, anyway?” she asks with a sigh, falling into step with him all the same. He shoots her a wink that absolutely does _not_ have her stomach twisting in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant, and his smile widens just a bit.

“It wouldn’t be any fun if I ruined the surprise, Princess! But it’ll be worth your time. Promise.” He leads her away from the paths she usually treads and towards what she knows to be the wyvern rookery. The wyvern master eyes them warily even as Claude sweet-talks her, but the woman eventually waves them on through with a gruff warning to be careful. Edelgard isn’t sure what to make of that, really, but Claude seems perfectly unfazed by it.

“Are you sure this is safe, Claude?”

“Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine. Wyverns can be dangerous, but these guys are pretty tame. As long as you don’t piss them off, they’re pretty sweet, actually. Plus, they love me.”

“Of course you’ve managed to charm the wyverns.” He laughs.

“Much as I’d like to claim that’s the case, it’s nothing like that. I just know how to handle them, is all. Anyway, there’s one in particular I want you to meet.”He leads her easily through the rookery to the stall of a great brown wyvern who lifts her head as they approach. “Hey, girl, I brought you a new friend.” The wyvern, named Zephyr, according to the sign hanging just outside her stall, turns her gaze onto Edelgard, who remains in the doorway even as Claude strides in. Zephyr lets out a little huff before nudging him in the stomach with her snout. Claude runs a hand across her scales fondly, crooning to her quietly. It’s the softest she’s ever seen him, and reluctantly, she concedes that it’s kind of cute. “Aren’t you coming?”

He teaches her how to approach the wyvern—slowly, with her hand out. Zephyr sniffs her hand much like a dog or cat would before letting out a grumble, pressing her snout against the palm of Edelgard’s hand.

“See? Told you that they’re friendly,” Claude teases as she marvels at being able to pet a wyvernthat she’s only just met. “Zephyr here’s one of the ones they let us borrow for sky watch and training, so she’s used to all kinds of people. But she’s not _quite_ who I wanted you to meet. Stay right there.” Edelgard raises an eyebrow as he steps underneath Zephyr’s wing and towards the back of the stall.

There’s the sound of shuffling, then chirping and chittering, and next thing she knows Claude has emerged out from under Zephyr’s wing with a squirming bundle in his arms. Edelgard just barely stops her mouth from falling open as a tiny wyvern sticks its head out of the pile of young wyverns in his arms. It looks right at her, yawns, and then scrambles over its siblings to study her better.

“Aren’t they adorable?” Claude asks, going so far as to deposit one in her arms. Edelgard looks at their mother in alarm, but Zephyr seems content to remain curled up, watching with half-lidded eyes. “They hatched a couple weeks ago.” The baby wyvern now in her arms wriggles to get comfortable and promptly returns to sleep in her arms. As she watches Claude coo at one of the baby wyverns still in his own arms, Edelgard realizes at last why she’d been so willing to go along with him, just this once.

In all the months that she’s known him, it’s the first time she’s seen his smile reach his eyes.

* * *

Edelgard’s rose bushes are beginning to produce buds, but she is in no mood to celebrate. The Black Eagles have returned from their investigation in Remire, and she trembles with anger. It is bad enough that they had used the Death Knight to kidnap Flayn. Flayn may not be human, but she is still a child, sweet and innocent and _trusting_ , and it makes Edelgard sick to her stomach even now that Flayn might have experienced even a fraction of what she had. That Solon would use her blood to conduct even more blood experiments on innocent people is even worse.

As the fires in Remire had begun to die out at last, leaving only scorched stone in their wake, Edelgard had donned the mask of the Flame Emperor. It had felt important, somehow, to tell the professor that she had not ordered such an atrocity. Yet as the professor had drawn the Sword of the Creator against her, she had been forced to reckon with the truth.

Even if she had not ordered the experiments in Remire, their blood was on her hands. No matter how much she hates Solon and his ilk, she currently stands in their shadow. And no matter how much she has tried to convince herself that allying herself with Those Who Slither in the Dark is for the best, no matter how much she has tried to convince herself that she is in control…if she does not stop them, it is only a matter of time before they do something like this again.

From her window, she can see Claude chasing after the professor—no doubt he has heard by now what had transpired in Remire and wants to hear what happened straight from the source. Professor Byleth’s brow is furrowed, their hand gripping the hilt of their sword tightly, and Edelgard watches Claude’s posture shift. A tension grows in his shoulders, his expression growing dark and stormy.

She rests her forehead against the glass of her window in a distinctly unladylike slump.

“Lady Edelgard?” Her back straightens on instinct, even if it’s only Hubert. He comes to join her by the window, his gaze tracing her line of sight and making a displeased sound in the back of his throat when he spies the two of them. “What they think does not matter.”

Except it does. Edelgard fingers one of the leaves of her growing rosebush silently, mustering up the courage to speak. At last, she turns to face him.

“We can’t allow _them_ to do as they please.” Hubert turns to stare at her in alarm.

“We cannot hope to oppose the Church without them.” Months ago, Edelgard would have ( reluctantly ) agreed. Rhea has sunk her claws deep into Fódlan using the Church of Seiros, and the Empire alone cannot hope to stand against them when everyone else remains unconvinced that the way things are is unacceptable.

“We can if we have other allies.” Hubert glances towards the professor and Claude.

“Am I supposed to believe that Rhea’s pet and the boy who calls himself the embodiment of distrust can be trusted?” He narrows his eyes. “That they will not report you the moment you tell them the truth of what has been done? There is a reason we have worked in the shadows.”

“I know.” Edelgard just barely remembers to draw back her hand before curling it into a fist, lest she crush the budding flowers beneath her fingertips. But, even if she had crushed them…they’d grow back, given the chance. They’re resilient.

Like all plants, her roses will reach for the sun when pulled into the shadows, seeking the light they need to thrive for as long as they are alive. She can feel her heart thrumming in her chest, fear making every breath feel tight. But she refuses to let Those Who Slither in the Dark strangle her any longer. Not without a fight. Hubert sighs.

“I must reiterate that I believe this to be a terrible idea,” he warns. “But I will not stop you. However…” His smile is sinister, yet oddly comforting. “I am prepared to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, should they react poorly to your…revelation. Until then, I shall focus my efforts on ensuring that your uncle is unaware of this change in plans.”

“As always, I know I can rely on you, Hubert,” she says with a small smile. “I don’t suppose you have any ideas on how to approach either of them about this?”

“My apologies, Lady Edelgard, but for _that_ task, I fear you are on your own.”

In the end, it is Claude who she approaches first. She knows he has no particular love or loyalty to the Church, and while they’ve only danced around their ideas of what Fódlan’s future ought to look like, she knows by now that their _ideals_ , at least, are largely in agreement. He’s amenable enough to taking a long walk outside the monastery walls, where they can talk freely so long as they remain aware of their surroundings.

On the way out, she is silent, her stomach twisting itself in knots. The thing about deciding to trust another person is this: it leaves you open to betrayal. But she wants to trust Claude—well, she supposes she does already, for some things, just…not most of the things which matter. But she wants to, even if it terrifies her, and it’s something she knows she needs to do.

By now, silence with Claude is far from uncomfortable, but he prefers to fill it with chatter anyway. For a schemer, she thinks, he probably likes the sound of his own voice a little more than he should. But it’s comforting, in a way. And if everything goes wrong, well…at least she’ll have this one last moment of normalcy to hold close to her heart.

But at last they reach a deserted clearing. Claude flops onto the ground, letting out a sigh of contentment that’s only a little exaggerated. Edelgard sits down next to him, closing her eyes and drinking in the feel of the sun upon her face.

“So?” Claude prompts, rolling onto his side to face her and propping himself up on one elbow. “What did you want to talk about? Must be pretty serious if we had to come all the way out here.” Edelgard exhales slowly, her heart hammering.

“Promise me something,” she pleads. “Promise me that you’ll hear me out, no matter what.” Claude frowns at her, but nods. It’s now or never. Edelgard opens her mouth to speak, and the truth comes tumbling out—fractured and out of order, but in its entirety.

“So, let me make sure I have everything straight.” It’s only once everything is out in the open that Edelgard musters the strength to look at Claude’s expression, only to find it unreadable. “Your uncle, the Regent of the Empire, is actually the leader of a secret organization that’s hellbent on destroying Fódlan which has been manipulating things from the shadows since the beginning of Fódlan’s history, has performed literal human experiments on people, yourself included. The archbishop isn’t even human and has used the Church of Seiros to control Fódlan for about just as long, and you decided to ally with Those Who Slither in the Dark and take advantage of the war they’re trying to start to bring about a complete revolution because you felt you had no other choice, but you’ve somehow only just realized you’re in way over your head, and now you want out. Oh, and you’re the Flame Emperor, who’s been directly or indirectly responsible for…quite a lot of the chaos this year.”

It’s…not the most flattering way of putting things, but she supposes that it’s not wrong.

“More or less.” Claude exhales slowly, rolling back onto his back and tilting his head up towards the sky.

“No offense, Edelgard, but that’s a lot to take in all at once. Were it just about anyone else, it’d be pretty hard to believe.”

“I swear that it’s true.”

“I know. I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t make a lot of sense based on the things I _do_ know, and…well, I think we can both agree that the Church has a few too many secrets for my liking.” He sits up and runs a hand down his face. “Don’t think we won’t talk about…all of this, really, another time. What you did…well, I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t understand _why_ you made the choices you did, or that I couldn’t empathize with your position, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve made a real mess of things.”

“I’m aware.” Edelgard folds her hands into her lap. “All I can do is apologize for what I’ve done—to you, and to everyone else—and attempt to right the wrongs which have been done by my former allies.” At last, she meets his gaze. “I once thought that it would be all right to play the role of a conqueror if it meant changing Fódlan for the better. But I’ve come to realize that I can’t build a world where no one will suffer the way I have if I allow Those Who Slither to act freely.”

“If nothing else, I agree with you on that front,” Claude replies with a wry smile. “Luckily for you, the world I dream of happens to line up quite nicely with yours. You can count me in, Princess, and the rest of the Deer, too. I’ll figure out some way to convince them.” He hums in thought. “Though honestly, things might be pretty hard without Teach on our side.”

“I was going to speak with them next,” Edelgard admits. “I can only hope that they will be as…accepting.”

“Well, they do say that the truth will set you free.” Edelgard shoots her companion a wry look.

“Right, because _you’re_ so forthcoming about such things.” Claude laughs.

“Can’t a guy be keep just a bit of mystery about him?” he asks teasingly. “But, I suppose fair’s fair. You already know more about me than most people, you know. I’d like to think that I can tell you the rest.”His smile falters. “But I’m not sure I’m ready just yet. Will you wait for me?”

How unfair, Edelgard thinks childishly. Still, he hadn’t pushed her to talk before she was ready, and that must count for something. She nods.

“Fair’s fair,” she echoes. “But you know, the truth might set _you_ free, too.” Claude lets out a snort.

“Touché, Princess. Touché.”

* * *

A few weeks later, Claude takes her to see the wyverns again. By now, they’ve quadrupled in size and make a ruckus clambering all over Zephyr, who indulges them with what can only be referred to as resignation. The moment she and Claude step into Zephyr’s stall, however, they turn their heads to the newcomers sharply before diving at them with wings which have only recently become fully functional. They really are like puppies, Edelgard muses, if puppies had wings and scales.

“You really do have a soft spot for them,” Edelgard observes, kneeling down next to where Claude has plopped himself down, letting the wyvern puppies climb all over him instead. “Most people in Fódlan find them intimidating.” There’s a silent question there, one she will not press him to answer. But he does.

“Where I’m from,” he says, not naming any place outright, “being able to ride a wyvern is…well, it’s pretty much a rite of passage. Naturally, that means I’ve been around them since I was a kid.” Edelgard shifts closer to him, so they can talk more quietly, and smiles slightly as one of the wyverns crawls into her lap, its claws catching briefly in her tights. “I’ve got one of my own, you know, back home. He was pretty unhappy when I left.” There’s a wistfulness to his expression that she’s never seen before, and she wonders if anyone else has seen him like this. “He was given to me when I was, oh, maybe five or so? He was about this big at the time.”

“No wonder he was upset.”

“I’ll have to make it up to him when I see him next,” Claude agrees with a little laugh. “I just hope they’re treating him all right…if there’s one thing that’s similar about Fódlan and where I’m from, it’s that people don’t always look kindly on those who are different. Even so, I love it there.” He shakes his head. “Well, I suppose he _does_ have my parents. They won’t let anything happen to him, I’m sure. But I can’t say I’ve ever really liked leaving things up to other people. As a kid, I learned the hard way that you could only really rely on yourself.”

“I know what you mean,” Edelgard says quietly, reaching to pet the wyvern in her lap. “Although, I suppose I always had Hubert to rely on.”

“In some ways, I envied that,” Claude confesses. “But…things are better, now. I have you, and I have the Deer—or at least, I hope I do. There’s a lot I haven’t told them yet, either.” _You know me better than most people_ , he’d said, back in the forest. The thought has something warm blooming in her chest. “And there’s a lot I probably _shouldn’t_ tell them just yet. But we’ll get there, I think. It’s funny. I never would’ve considered it before—putting my trust in others, I mean. And in return, I never really expected anyone to want to trust me. As I’m sure you’ve realized, I tend to prefer to figure things out on my own. But then you decided to put your trust in me, and I…” He trails off, his gaze distant. “It made me realize that I wanted that for myself, too.” He turns his gaze onto her and smiles, soft and sweet, and—oh no, she’s in trouble now, isn’t she? “So…thanks. For trusting me, and being honest with me.”

“I think,” she says, her throat suddenly dry, “that I should be thanking _you_.”

* * *

Her Gloucester roses bloom bright and red, because of course they do. Edelgard could laugh at the irony. Had the packaging mentioned that they were red roses? She can’t remember. Red roses are popular, though, so she supposes she shouldn’t be _so_ surprised that the ones she’s been carefully nurturing for about half the year are of that color. There’s a part of her that wonders if Claude had known, when he’d given her the seeds all those months ago, and if that meant something. Probably not. The thought haunts her all the same.

For better or for worse, there’s plenty to keep her mind off of it. Her last act as the Flame Emperor had been to lead Imperial troops into the Holy Tomb, only to disappear the moment the attack began in order to fend off those very same troops. While it had been immensely satisfying to _finally_ be rid of Metodey, whose lust for blood had always disturbed her, she knows it is only a matter of time until Thales retaliates. And indeed, his retribution is swift.

He may not be able to expose her as the former Flame Emperor, but he can snatch the _real_ throne out of her hands. It is an open secret that House Vestra has long committed less than savory acts in the emperor’s name, and all it takes is for him to reveal parts of her plan to depose of most of the current ministers ( though her original plan had been house arrest rather than murder ) for them to condemn her as a traitor. And when her father passes only a week later, there is nothing stopping the Regent from becoming Emperor himself.

When the Empire declares war on Garreg Mach, Edelgard tells the knights what she can. Loathe as she is to work with the Church, she knows it’s the best chance she has of making sure that her friends will make it through alive. There is a grim solemnity which falls over the monastery as graduation plans become preparations for war, and Edelgard steals what little time she can for her friends.

The other Eagles stand with her, and for that, she couldn’t be more grateful. The professor has decided to as well, and that is enough to make her cry. But she doesn’t have time for tears. A war is coming, and she spends most of final month before the invasion of Garreg Mach desperately trying to win back allies she’d once made amongst the Empire’s nobility.

“There’s still so much we don’t know,” Claude grumbles the night before the invasion. “But I guess we’re out of time.” He chuckles. “I refuse to die with so much unknown, but…can we really survive this?” The look Edelgard gives him is sharp, her gut twisting at the mere _thought_ of him perishing.

“You’re not allowed to die,” she tells him in the most imperious tone she can muster, as if saying so will make it happen.

“I could say the same to you. For the sake of our ambitions…we’ll just have to find a way, won’t we?” He sighs. “Well, that’s easier for me to say. All I have to do is survive tomorrow’s battle.” He hesitates. “You’re certain, there’s nothing else I can do?”

“Unless you’re able to convince your grandfather that it’s worth getting involved in the Empire’s civil war, no,” Edelgard replies with a shake of her head. “And in any case, having the Alliance as a buffer between the Black Eagle Strike Force and Cornelia’s takeover of the Kingdom is no small task.” He snorts.

“The Black Eagle Strike Force?” She frowns. She’d spent an entire night thinking up that name, and thought it rather clever. He shakes his head. “Well, I can’t say I’ve got anything better. But you know, I’ll always be on your side. You might not be able to count on much in this world, but you can count on that.” Her gaze softens.

“I know.” She reaches for his hand, and squeezes it. “Just as I’ll be on yours.”

Despite their efforts, Garreg Mach falls. The professor disappears off a cliff. Almost immediately, the order to evacuate comes. All the students had been directed to pack only what they could carry the night before, and the knights buy them just enough time to run to their rooms and grab them before they’re shuffled into wagons which will take most of them home. Edelgard glances at the pot of roses on her windowsill.

It’s sentimental and stupid, but she cuts one of the blossoms free with her dagger, racing down the hall with her pack on her shoulder to find Claude herding his Deer.

“The Millennium Festival,” she says, pressing the flower into his palm. “If nothing else…I will see you then.” It is what her class had promised, after all, and she knows that his had made a similar one. He glances down at the bloom in his hands, his expression growing soft.

“The Millennium Festival,” he agrees. “You’d better not be late.”

There is so much she wants to tell him, but there’s no time. She turns back towards her Eagles, and doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> me: so i'm not gonna be able to finish all my pieces in time  
> also me: -is up until 2 am to finish this-
> 
> in any case, hope u enjoyed! happy day 2 of edelclaude week!


End file.
